by Greg Ballan
"I'm Michael Severin, Agent Knight."
"Pleasure to meet you, Michael." Erik pointed toward the safe. "Have either of you ever heard of lining a safe with gold?"
"Only if it's the gold one is trying to protect and shelter, Agent Knight." Neko's reply lacked conviction, as if he wasn't certain of his assumption.
"I'm going to assume that this isn't some sort of 'Vatican practice' and the gold lining is for a purpose."
Michael Severin scratched his head, puzzled. "I have never heard of such a Vatican custom, Special Agent Knight." He looked over at the bishops. "Perhaps they would be the ones to shed light on your inquiry?"
"Please, Erik. My friends just call me Erik." Erik felt a familiar tingle, the once-lost sensation of working a case permeated through him. It was coming back slowly, the interaction and the deduction that seemed so elusive and awkward earlier was becoming second nature again.
"Gold is very dense, even more so than lead," Martin chimed in. "Maybe this gold lining was used to keep whatever was inside hidden away from detection, like a shielding of some type."
Erik snapped his fingers looking at his friend. "Like lead's used as shielding in a nuclear reactor or a protective bib during an x-ray. This gold lining could have been used to keep something shielded." Erik pointed toward Martin. "Brilliant deduction 'Holmes'." The two officers understood the compliment and chuckled.
"Why would the Vatican see fit to store a radioactive item here within consecrated grounds?" Neko glared at the two bishops. Both shrugged their shoulders.
"Good lord, you don't think there's radiation contamination in here do you?" Michael took two nervous steps back from the open safe.
Erik chuckled and shook his head. "If there were, Officer Severin, we'd all need decontamination protocols at this point. The detective's hybrid senses scanned the surrounding air for any radiant particles. "I assure you whatever was in that safe wasn't radioactive, but it did possess some kind of energy, that much I'm sure."
The officer crossed himself several times. "Thank you, Lord Jesus!"
Erik rubbed a hand across his unshaven cheek. "Martin, did you get the samples we need for testing?"
Denton nodded holding up a case. "I've got everything we need. Should we dust the safe for prints?"
Erik studied the safe. "We may as well, but even if our thief left fingerprints, I doubt they'll do us any good. He's either smart enough to do this job without leaving such an obvious trace, or he knows fingerprints won't help us."
Erik dusted the safe, mumbling as he searched for any evidence. "What kind of man can overturn a granite slab and pry open a heavy safe with no pry bar and no heavy equipment?"
"Uhm Erik." Denton hedged. "The only man I know capable of doing these things is investigating the crime scene."
Erik continued his examination but his hand flinched slightly. "I have an alibi, Counselor. I was back in the States."
Denton laughed, "I know that. I'm just implying that the feats performed here indicate the possibility of another hybrid on the loose. Maybe it's a Seelak/Human as opposed to your Esper warrior/Human DNA. That would explain the murderous tendency, the bloodlust, and even the enhanced strength."
Erik stopped what he was doing and looked over at his friend. "The feeling was different, Martin. The Seelak was dark but driven by hatred for a war fought and wrongs done ten thousand years ago. Its need to hunt was based on its genetic design and the need to feed off emotion." Erik shook his head. "What I sensed through that object was something different, darker on a scale I've never encountered. If this was a Seelak or a Seelak hybrid, I'd know. My Esper DNA is wired to pick up and respond to such a threat. I'm positive we're not dealing with a Seelak. Truth be told, I don't know what we're dealing with. If I believed in fairy tales I'd offer a hypothesis based on the available data, but I'm not ready to go down the road of make-believe just yet."
Denton pointed toward the safe. "Anything?"
Erik shook his head, pointing toward two evidence bags. "No prints but some more of those black fibers. To be honest, the imprint coming off this safe is so powerful it's interfering with my ability to focus. I've had to erect a mental shield just to concentrate on what I'm doing."
"Bad?" Denton stared at the seemingly innocuous safe.
"No, Martin, just the opposite in fact. I find myself half on the verge of falling to my knees and just surrendering to the tranquility and peace."
Denton sighed. "I'm jealous. I could use a little tranquility and peace right about now."
"Seriously?" Erik looked toward his friend and focused his telepathic power. He detected the pain and sorrow over Denton's lost son but also the guilt and regret over lost ties and contact. Erik closed his eyes and lowered his mental shield. He allowed himself to be engulfed in the palpable waves of peace and holiness emanating from inside the safe. He harnessed those impressions and gathered them like a man harvesting a crop. With a deliberate slow gesture, he redirected those impressions toward his friend.
Denton gasped as the first waves engulfed his body. "Oh my word! What's happening?" He fell to his knees weeping openly as the psychic bombardment saturated his mortal essence.
Erik felt the impressions consume him, drawing him into the unbridled ecstasy and tranquility. With great effort he restored his mental barrier and ceased the transfer to his friend. Erik walked over to Martin and offered his hand. He lifted his friend up and held him until the older man was able to stand on his own power.
"Erik," Denton muttered in awe, "that was beyond anything I've ever experienced. Good lord, man! How do you not allow yourself to get enraptured by that feeling?"
The detective's brow furrowed. "I don't know, Martin. It's appealing to lose one's self in the euphoria, but I'd be just as lost in bliss as I was when I got swallowed up by the dark imprint from that cross earlier." Erik placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I hope that eased your burden a little, Martin. I understand now what you're carrying and again, I'm so sorry."
Denton nodded. "That was just the jolt I needed. I'm an atheist, Erik, but I may have to rethink that based on the events of today. Anyway, when William told me he was becoming a cleric, I admit that I didn't take the news well. He had a job lined up with the firm as an agent and showed real promise. I hated the church for taking my son from me. I didn't think about his happiness or that he'd found his true calling. I wanted him with me following in my footsteps and maybe giving me grandchildren and some direct family. Since his murder, I've been feeling crushed by the guilt of my bigotry and selfishness." The old man turned toward his friend. "I didn't feel that when he was alive. All I felt was a sense of righteous indignation." Denton sighed but there seemed to be a great weight lifted from him. "He was happy and found a home, a place where he belonged and felt at peace. I really was proud of him and maybe even a little envious. I wish I would have told him so." Denton sighed again. "What kind of father abandons his son like that?"
"I'm sure he knew, Martin. The fact that you're here now, doing what you're doing, speaks volumes of the love you had for him. If Heaven is real, then your son is looking down at his father, and he knows, Martin." A tear ran down Erik's cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away. "He knows his father came for him and he knows the pain you feel and he forgives freely." The detective turned away. "I'm sorry, Counselor, the emotions from that box and from what I read from you are wreaking havoc on me."
"You don't have to apologize, Erik. You've given me a great gift."
"I often wonder, Martin," the detective's voice softened, "if my own father is looking down at me sometimes and proud of the man I am despite my failures and shortcomings." Erik's eyes were vulnerable and his face betrayed a desperate longing.
"Erik, if there is a Heaven, your father is there. I know he's proud of you and probably bragging to anyone who'll listen about how special his son is and what an amazing man of character and principle he's become."
A second tear rolled down the detective's cheek and he shuddered
in spite of himself. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, gathering his composure. "Thanks Martin, I needed to hear that."
"Erik, when I first met you, I instantly took a liking to you because you reminded me so much of William. You were a brazen young rooster determined to do things your own way on your own terms. Then when you changed and you acquired all these incredible gifts, I often wondered how you'd change. I wondered if you'd become arrogant and cocky like most men who acquire power." Denton smiled and shook his head. "You didn't. If anything you became more humble, more insecure about yourself and your humanity. You were always careful to not use your talents except when coming to the aid of somebody in need. That takes a special kind of man, Erik—someone like my son, William, who only wanted to help and serve others in his own way. I see a lot of you in him and I'm proud of the man you are as I'm sure your father would be. I know William would have liked you a great deal and you would have found him to be a kindred spirit."
Erik struggled to contain his emotions. "Martin, when I held that cross, I felt William's essence. I felt his courage, his decency and sense of justice. He willingly sacrificed himself to defend his brothers. Your son had your values, your sense of decency, Counselor. You did well with him, and he apparently learned a great deal because he carried those values with him across the ocean and lived them." Erik pointed toward his friend. "Your values, Martin. He had your values and your sense of justice. He was your son and I know he loved you and respected you." Erik's voice dropped. "I'll share something with you. I've always admired those traits and struggled to emulate them. I hope, and sometimes even pray, that my father was a man like you. I don't know much about my family, but since I've known you, I've always imagined my dad being a lot like you. I'd like to believe he'd have taken the time with me like you have over in the past to tell me when you think I'm on the wrong track and point me in the right direction even when I was hell-bent on my own course. I've missed that these last two years, the friendship and the guidance. You're a wise man, Martin, a good friend and a good father. Believe me when I tell you your son knew how you felt and knows now. As far as family goes, Counselor, we're not much, but Shanda, EJ and I always have a place for you in our home."
Denton nodded wiping a stray tear. The old man suddenly broke out in a fit of laughter.
"I think I missed the joke."
Denton looked at his friend and smiled. "I'm laughing at the irony, Erik. A devout atheist and a human/alien hybrid share a 'bonding moment' in a church while investigating a multiple homicide involving the atheist's son, a religious cleric preparing for the priesthood. Plus, no investigation would be complete without seemingly inhuman and, as of yet, unexplainable components." The counselor shook his head while blowing his nose in a handkerchief. "It doesn't get much more screwed up than that."
Erik was silent for a moment. He chuckled followed by a deep belly laugh, "Amen, Martin. When we bend the curve of normalcy, we make it a pretzel for sure!"
They laughed for several seconds drawing confused glances from their hosts. The two police had fallen back and were speaking with the bishops at the opposite end of the large chamber. The men looked over at their guests clearly confused by their sudden levity.
Denton shook his head. "Do we about have this wrapped up?"
"Just about. I'm gonna do God a small favor though." Erik's eyes burned with aqua blue fire. He approached the massive stone tabletop. The hybrid's arm and back muscles rippled as powerful hands grasped the massive bulk. The detective roared as he hefted the six-inch thick granite slab over his head. Erik's shirt seams split as powerful muscles flexed and tensed under the massive stone altar top. He carried the heavy burden over to the altar base and gently laid the three ton top back on its massive base. There was barely any impact noise as the heavy top gently settled against the four marble support pillars. The powerful hybrid delicately lifted the heavy marble statues and placed them back on their bases. One of the statues had been damaged and the detective carefully laid the broken piece next to the large base pedestal.
Erik spotted the crushed gold chalice—a cup he knew held the representation of Christ's blood. He picked up the crumpled goblet and held it in his hands. The hybrid focused his will channeling high energy plasma through his cells and into the golden chalice. His hands radiated blue power as searing waves of heat and energy dispersed throughout the chamber. Fiery blue fingers reshaped the damaged holy object. After several seconds the glow faded. Erik studied the golden cup, reformed and nearly flawless. He placed the cup on the altar and covered it with a white linen. He gazed up at the representation of Christ on the cross. He nodded and pointed to the repaired altar and the statues. "It's not perfect, but I hope you'll accept the gesture in the good faith I intended. Some nasty stuff went down here and if you're watching, we all could use a little divine blessing to get through this." The detective reverently knelt toward the cross then walked back toward his friend.
"That was amazing, Erik." Denton pointed toward the two police officers and the bishops. "I think our friends are in shock though."
Erik smirked. "They'll get over it. Hopefully this gesture will buy us some goodwill 'upstairs' and on this plain. We need answers, Martin, and we don't have time to be stonewalled by the bureaucracy here. Plus, I don't like the idea of any place of worship being trashed and robbed. The savage butchery that happened here makes me sick. It's just plain wrong on too many levels."
Denton raised an eyebrow as Erik walked past. The senior operative gathered their evidence case and followed. Erik turned back and winked. "Let's go talk to our witness, Counselor, shake some trees and see what kind of bad apples we can make fall. There's an unspoken truth here and it's time somebody started talking."
◆◆◆
Our Lady of Perpetual Hope Hospital, Room 345
Erik, Martin, and their police escort walked down the hospital corridor. The two visibly shaken bishops retuned to report to Bishop O'Malley. Erik wondered how the staunch Vatican elder would react to their undoubtedly wild report. The detective spotted two men in simple black clothing guarding a doorway.
"I'm going out on a limb and guessing our witness is in that room and those two men have orders not to admit anyone."
"I thought we covered that earlier today?" Denton deliberately slowed their pace. The seasoned agent craned his head back at the police. "Neko, will we have any problems gaining entry?"
The burly cop shook his head. "Let me see how the diplomatic winds are blowing before Erik is forced to toss them through a wall or out a window."
Erik snorted. "I'd rather nobody gets hurt today, Neko. If you can smooth things over that would be most welcome."
Neko made his way toward the two men and engaged them in conversation. The police officer gestured toward Martin, Erik, and Michael motioning them forward.
"A good sign." Denton nodded to Erik as they approached the doorway.
"Let's hope so. We've had nothing but roadblocks since we've arrived."
"Mr. Knight, Mr. Denton, I've been instructed to give you ten minutes with Brother Peter." The guard opened the door allowing them access. As Erik walked in, the man forcefully laid a hand on his shoulder. "No more than ten minutes, Mr. Knight."
The detective nodded as he removed the man's hand, applying pressure to his wrist and bending it in a jujitsu lock. The guard grunted in discomfort as Erik continued to apply pressure forcing the man's hand back down. "I got the message. Ten minutes, no more." The detective released the wrist lock and entered the room.
Neko shook his head smiling. "The Vatican Bureau are bullies, Mr. Knight. They enjoy throwing their considerable influence around the holy city."
Erik shrugged. "I gathered as much. But we're not in the holy city right now and I have zero tolerance for bullies no matter who they are or who they work for."
Erik focused his attention on the lean man sitting on a large chair wrapped in blankets. The man held a Bible and whispered prayers with fervor. "Oh boy! Here's another twist
in the pretzel."
Erik knelt down next to the brother, who babbled incoherently. "Brother Peter, can you hear me?"
The cleric continued to mumble prayers clutching the Bible. He looked up at Erik as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. "Death, death came for us that day. My friend let me escape. I fear Death is still out there, looking for me, waiting for me in the dark to claim my soul along with the others."
Denton leaned down, gently taking the man's hand. "Brother Peter, can you tell us what happened?"
Peter looked at the elder agent. "We only came to pray and reflect. The basement cathedral at St. Martha's always made us feel at peace. I knew we weren't supposed to be there but the feeling of God is so powerful in that place. Whenever we had doubts about our calling, we would go down to that chapel and just 'feel' the presence of God." Peter clutched the Bible tighter reciting the Lord's Prayer, seemingly lost in some private torment. "Peace, may peace be with you, peace, peace…" The mantra fell into a whisper.
"Brother Peter, were you aware of anything special hidden in that basement chamber? Some artifact or relic?"
The brother gazed back at Erik. "Shhhhh, it's a secret! We're not supposed to be down here. Father Mathews will be angry if he realizes we come down here. We must keep the secret. Kneel with me. Feel the presence of God."
Erik shook his head, curbing his frustration. "I feel Him, Brother Peter, but the darkness, the darkness clouds my peace. He's shrouded in black. How did he get in this place?" The detective changed tactics.
Brother Peter looked up, his eyes wide with fright. "We don't know! We heard him hiss. We turned and there he was. Brother Karl approached him, reached out to him in friendship, and was cut to ribbons. I screamed, panicked." Peter became agitated pulling his blanket tighter around his body. Pale, cold hands clenched the Bible and rosary beads tighter. "Our Father who art in Heaven … hallowed be thy name … Oh God stop this bloodshed! We only wanted to feel your grace."